


To belong

by Beweme



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Arguing, Awkward Crush, Complicated Relationships, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Maxwell does not know how to feel feels, One Shot, Short, maxwil - Freeform, mild angst there but like super mild, something cute and lighthearted for a change, wilson is just being wilson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26678869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beweme/pseuds/Beweme
Summary: Wilson likes being around Maxwell, but why does the other man have to be so god damn annoying all the time?  Wilson just wishes that Maxwell would shut the hell up and let him enjoy the nice evening for once.
Relationships: Maxwell & Wilson (Don't Starve), Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	To belong

**Author's Note:**

> Look I wrote something super fast because sometimes I like writing something cute and not-so-angsty and I'm trying to stay in the writing mood now that my inspiration is back.
> 
> Also yes I drip and fell back in this maxwil hell and now I can't get back up.

Wilson had never belonged.

He never had particularly strong need to be part of anything bigger, to be part of the group, didn't need other people to know who he was. He had always been a loner. Not that he minded that, it was his own choice, his own decision, and it had worked out fine for him, so he couldn't complain. 

He understood that not everyone was like that. There were social butterflies and the bells of the ball, and he could get along with those people as long as they didn't try to force it upon him. In fact, he felt like in a way it even worked out greatly with them, the opposites attract and all that stuff.

Take Willow, or maybe Webber, for example. They were both outgoing personalities, almost polar opposites of Wilson. But they gave him the company he didn't realize he wanted, they made him go along with things he didn't realize he needed, they were there to push him when he was stuck and pulling him away from the pit when he sunk there. Likewise he was there to slow them down if they were going too fast, to quiet them down when they didn't realize they needed the calm time, to listen when they needed to just talk.

So why? Why _oh why_ in the name of any God, that might exist in any universe there might've been, did he find himself always walking to Maxwell?

Maxwell was infuriating and got on his nerves, most likely on purpose, and he was never good for conversation or comfort. But still, somehow, _for some reason_ , Wilson's feet were once again making their way to the man who sat on the ground, reading his book and doing something with the shadows that appeared into his palm, hovered and danced over his commanding hand. Against the setting sun the shadows looked darker than usual, and somehow seemed to completely evade any light that colored everything else in yellowish hue.

"Decent evening to you, Maxwell."

"And what owes me the pleasure of your attention this time, Higgsbury?" Maxwell greeted him, somehow managing to sound even more disinterested than usually, not even bothering to rose his eyes from the book.

Wilson didn't know how to answer. He didn't really have a reason to bother the older man, he was just in need of the company, and somehow he felt like Maxwell would fill that need best at the moment. Why or how, Wilson didn't care to think about too deeply.

"State your business, Higgsbury. I am busy."

Wilson frowned and sat next to the tall man. Maxwell was not busy, that was just something he said in case somebody would ask him to do any chores, and because nobody really understood all that hoodoo-woodoo stuff or whatever the hell he did with his book, he could always just use that excuse and nobody could prove that he was not doing something of importance. Oh how much Wilson just wanted to steal that book sometimes to dig in and find out the science behind all those shadows, because there just _had to_ be something logical behind even something as weird and mysterious as that.

Maxwell glanced at him from the corner of his eye, questioning look on his face, and then let out a weary sigh and slammed Codex shut and put it away (and Wilson let out a longing little sigh. Maybe another time, then).

"What are you in need of so desperately that you'd come to me?" the man rubbed his fingers over his head and finally turned to look at Wilson. The scientist shrugged, lowering his own eyes on his shoes.

Maxwell rose his eyebrow, as if he didn't know. Of course he knew, he was not that dense. He _must've_ known why Wilson was in need of his company. Wilson puckered his lower lip, not answering his question. Maxwell shrugged, and turned to look at the sun that was already sinking behind the horizon. There was this certain kind of cohesion between them sometimes, when it was silent like this, when neither of them wanted to talk but needed something, someone.

Well, Wilson needed someone. He wasn't sure about Maxwell, but knowing how withdrawn the man could be, he suspected that Maxwell would've just up and left if he didn't feel like having Wilson's company right now. Maxwell wasn't really tactful with the thing like that, he was very upfront and clear when he didn't like something.

The stillness continued to dominate the atmosphere, both men sitting in silence, sunken in their own thoughts, Maxwell leaning forward, his hands wrapped around his crooked legs, and Wilson leaning back, legs straight and ankles crosses over each other, watching the grass swaying lightly in gentle wind.

The scientist started to feel a bit cold as it got later and the sun stopped warming his skin, instead only offering a pale light to keep the darkness at bay for a little while longer. They would not be in a hurry yet, but it was usually this time when it was wise to drop what ever you were doing and head to the safety of the campsite, and so the young man turned his head towards the other to ask him to head back with him, but he got as far as opening his mouth when he stopped and realized that Maxwell had fallen asleep.

Wilson looked at him, the words stuck in his throat. Maxwell leaned the side of his head to his wrist, his hair slipped a little over his other eye. He looked peaceful. Wilson almost didn't want to wake him up, finding himself liking that look on Maxwell, but he new he simply had to. If he didn't, the man would probably wake up in a very unpleasant situation when the darkness would fall. So Wilson reached his hand out and tugged Maxwell's shoulder.

"Come on now, time to wake up, Max."

Maxwell stirred and pulled his shoulders higher, but Wilson kept shaking him gently until he eventually cracked his eyes open just a bit.

"I am awake..." Maxwell muttered and leaned back, quickly fixed his hair and stretched his neck. Yeah right, like he hadn't been totally asleep just now.

"Good, we should go, then. It's gonna be night soon enough." Wilson commented, and Maxwell couldn't help but smirk.

"You have successfully wasted your precious time by sitting here and doing nothing then. Congratulations, Higgsbury, really making use of your time." the man teased him, and Wilson frowned.

"Well, it's not like I have nothing but time to waste! It seems like since I'm stuck here, I don't really have anything else to do than waste it until I die and even after _that_ I will just have more time to waste!" Wilson threw his hands in the air in frustration, and Maxwell kept giving him that annoying smirk.

"Good for you. Happy I was able to help."

"Look, I was having a perfectly good time until just a second ago. Why do you always have to ruin everything for me?" Wilson run his fingers over his face, pulling his eyelids. He should've let Maxwell just continue sleeping and let him die when the night fell. The man was not worth the headache, and Wilson's words seemed to only fuel his amusement.

"Frankly my dear, you make it too easy and way too fun to stop." The man mocked, and turned to pinch Wilson's cheek.

"Ouch! Quit it!" the younger man slapped his hand away and leered at him "God, sometimes I wish you'd be mute so you couldn't always ruin my mood."

"Oh trust me pal, I would find other ways to ruin your mood if I really wanted to." Maxwell shrugged and laughed at him, and Wilson's frown only deepened.

"Just stop, won't you? Every word you say is only so much more infuriating than the last" he groaned, and of course Maxwell did the absolute opposite of what he asked for.

"I repeat; too easy, too fun." he grinned and laughed. Wilson could feel his cheeks burning, and in the heat of the situation he grasped Maxwell's collar and yanked him closer.

"Just! Shut! Up! For! A! Second!" His good mood was all gone. Why did Maxwell have to be such a spoil-sport all the damn time? The man just rose an eyebrow, seemingly even more amused than before.

"Make me."

Wilson glowered at the other man, teeth bared and firmly bitten together, and rose his hand in fast movement. Maxwell flinched, preparing himself to get punched in the face by the angered man (wouldn't be the first time, really).

Instead he was completely shocked when when the hand shoot behind his head and drew him closer, and suddenly there was pair of lips pushing against his own.

Maxwell blinked, his whole body frozen in surprise and confusion. This... was not what he had been expecting, at all. He blinked again, but the thing that was happening just kept happening. Wilson pulled away from him, his mouth making a wet sound when he parted from Maxwell and huffed, the deep color painted on his cheeks.

"Just shut up, okay?"

Maxwell opened his mouth, but Wilson yanked him closer, nearly close enough for their lips to meet again and stared him straight in the eyes.

"Don't make me shut you up again." he muttered without any threat in his voice, and Maxwell couldn't stop staring at him in bewilderment. Finally he managed to pull himself somewhat together, his mouth moving in silence a couple of seconds when his tongue tried to find the words.

"What if... what I will?"

It was Wilson's turn pause and stare, but he collected himself faster than the older man and leaned closer, this time slower, and Maxwell welcomed his lips back with a small amount of discomfort of not knowing what to do, even as he found himself liking this weird turn of the events.

Maxwell didn't usually feel defenseless with the other survivors around. Sure they didn't like him, but then again, who did? They tolerated him, and that was all he could ask for, and they had semi-working relationship with one another. He could stand his ground if someone was giving him the hard time, he wasn't helpless.

But he felt the weird kind of unsafety when he sat there in front of the scientist. Not that he was scared that Wilson would hurt him, but he wasn't really sure how to react when Wilson's steady hands rested on his shoulder and on the back of his head, and his lips were moving on the magician's own, firmly staying in touch even as he was parting for small breaths at times, his teeth briefly running over Maxwell's skin. It was nice. It was strange. It was not what he had ever thought Wilson would do with him.

He had never thought about Wilson in such a way before. Well sure he had always thought that he was fairly attractive man and he had even teased the poor lad a couple of times with playfully flirty words and touches, but he had done that only as a joke. Or at least he liked to think it was a joke. It got to be, right?

Oh, he was a fool, having the audacity to try to lie to himself while he sat there kissing Wilson, not having a single excuse of why he did so. Screw it, maybe there was something that he liked about Wilson, something that was way beyond just joking or teasing. He had spend a lot of time with the scientist, after all.

Maxwell hadn't dared to move his own arms from the ground, just sitting in place, his eyes closed slightly, concentrating to feel and taste the other man on his lips. He cracked his eyes slightly open, and just the sight of Wilson red face and his sternly together drawn eyebrows and closed eyes made the magician shiver.

All too soon Wilson pulled himself away again, opening his eyes to gaze into Maxwell's eyes. It was a strange couple of seconds when the lighter eyes met with the dark ones, and then, very suddenly, whatever it was that had been between them seem to disappear in a blink and Wilson cleared his throat and sat back. Maxwell didn't say anything, but he found himself missing the warmth between them that faded away when Wilson leaned back.

"Well, uh. There, now I have done something else than wasted my time" Wilson declared and looked down in sudden awkwardness "Gotta stop wasting it around you." he added, laughing, feeling himself getting flustered. He had thought it would annoy Maxwell, maybe throw him off a bit and hopefully strike him voiceless, but he had not expected Maxwell to like it. He hadn't meant it like that, but he was not disappointed with the end result, even though it made him blush and look away in awkward nervousness.

Wilson flinched at the sudden touch on his shoulder, directing his eyes back at the other man to see that Maxwell had moved a little closer to him than before.

"I..." the older man started, looking like he had a really hard time to find the right words to use, and Wilson decided to just sit and wait, not trying to hurry him up or asking for more. Maxwell's eyes were darting left and right, nervously, before he took in a low, deep breath and his grip on Wilson's shoulder tightened softly.

"...I like having you around sometimes. I know the others are not that fond of me, and I don't care about that, but... I don't mind being around you. It's this weird feeling of just..." Maxwell paused for a second, his mouth slightly agape, until there was a weird, small smile on his face "When you don't belong anywhere, but sometimes it feels like you might belong, somewhere, with someone."

He was quiet for a while, glancing at Wilson again "...You know that feeling?"

Wilson was silent for a while, trying to process the fact that Maxwell, who _never_ talked about anything about himself to anyone, _never ever_ under any circumstances, would share something so oddly personal with him. Wilson let that tiny amount of trust boost his confidence and warm up a certain place inside his chest. He was a little bit flattered that Maxwell wanted to tell him something like this without any prompting or teasing. 

Apparently Maxwell read his silence wrong, because the hand on his shoulder withdrew quickly away as if the touch burned, and the weird small smile on Maxwell's lips faded away in an instant.

"...You don't know. That's fine. You have your friends and your science, of course you have somewhere where you belong already." Maxwell cleared his throat and stood up with movement a little too fast for someone with constant back pains and light-headiness, and Wilson was concerned of the magician's sudden need to retreat away from him as fast as possible.

The scientist opened his mouth, looking at Maxwell who seemed to have already gone back to his normal attitude of indifference, his back turned to Wilson. The younger man stood up and sighed, rubbing his neck.

"...Maxwell, that's why I always _want_ to waste my time with you. That's where I feel like I belong the most. As asinine and insufferable as you can be, I don't think there is anyone else who understands me the same way you do."

This time Maxwell was the one who was silent, and Wilson took the opportunity to sneak closer "I'm not so good with people, and by God, you are terrible with people. And maybe that is why it feels easier to be with you. It's easier to be me when I'm with you."

Wilson took the risk and wrapped his arms around Maxwell, and was surprised that the man didn't try to pull away from the touch. Instead Maxwell rose one of his arms up, and with a touch as light as a weather he swept his fingers briefly over Wilson's hardel. The scientist leaned his head on the man's back and sighed deeply.

He was a loner, always had been, always would be. He could appreciate Willow's loudness and Webber's friendliness sometimes, but he needed to be alone like he needed air to breathe. And in that lonesomeness he needed someone who knew how to be alone together, someone who was there, who understood that 'there' was sometimes quiet and distant. The comfortable silence, being present without doing things together, just existing, breathing the same air, knowing how to be alone. 

Knowing what it was like to be lonely.

Knowing the pressure of suddenly being part of a group when you hardly knew how to be part of anything at all, knowing the fear of loosing, letting go, being the weird one and the outcast amongst the outcasts.

So that's why. That's why he would always find himself walking to Maxwell. That's why he would always find him and seek him out. He was pulled towards the other hot-headed, stubborn man who wouldn't hesitate to punch someone in the face in anger, but would panic and startle if someone even accidentally touched his hand for a second.

And after a minute that felt like a year, the scientist released his grip and stepped away, Maxwell turning to face him again.

"Let's go, it's late." he stated and turned to leave, but Maxwell's sudden voice, a very tiny and unsure, defensive, made him stop on his heels.

"Would you mind, if...if I get on your nerves some other time in the future... to shut me up again?"

Wilson swallowed a laughter, a good-natured, well-meaning one, but Maxwell had the amazing ability to get insulted over the smallest things imaginable, so he instead turned to flash a mischievous smirk to the other man.

"Don't worry, you get on my nerves _a lot._ "

Wilson turned to walk towards the camp, and Maxwell followed him quietly. The older man was still a little confused over the weird event that occurred, little lost in his own thoughts. Maybe he didn't belong here, maybe he didn't belong with anyone.

He touched his lips with his fingertips softly, eyeing Wilson's back. He let the faint smile flash through his lips for a second. Maybe, if Wilson meant what he said, he could belong there with him. Maybe.

He quickly decided that he needed to find a way to get on Wilson's nerves in a way that was not too insulting. He wanted to taste the other man's lips again, not his fist.


End file.
